reature of his kind," replied
his mother "besides, Hycy, between you and me, she'll be more than worth
her bit."

"There now, Peety," said her son, turning towards the mendicant; "it's
all settled--wait now for a minute till I write a couple of notes, which
you must deliver for me."

Peety sat accordingly, and commenced to lay down for his daughter's
guidance and conduct such instructions as he deemed suitable to the
situation she was about to enter and the new duties that necessarily
devolved upon her.

In due time Hycy appeared, and placing two letters in Peety's hands,
said--"Go, Peety, to Gerald Cavanagh's, of Fenton's Farm, and if you
can get an opportunity, slip that note into Kathleen's hands--this, mark,
with the corner turned down--you won't forget that?"

"No, sir."

"Very well--you're then to proceed to Tom M'Mahon's, and if you find
Bryan, his son, there, give him this; and if he's at the mountain farm
of Ahadarra, go to him. I don't expect an answer from Kathleen Cavanagh,
but I do from Bryan M'Mahon; and mark me, Peety."

"I do, sir."

"Are you sure you do?"

"Sartin, sir."

"Silent as the grave then is the word in both cases--but if I ever
hear--"

"That's enough, Masther Hycy; when the grave spakes about it so will I."

Peety took the letters and disappeared with an air rendered important
by the trust reposed in him; whilst Mrs. Burke looked inquiringly at her
son, as if her curiosity were a good deal excited.

"One of them is to Kate or Kathleen Cavanagh, as they call her," said
Hycy, in reply to her looks; "and the other for Bryan M'Mahon, who is
soft and generous--_probatum est_. I want to know if he'll stand for
thirty-five--and as for Kate, I'm making love to her, you must know."

"Kathleen Cavanagh," replied his mother; "I'll never lend my privileges
to sich match."

"Match!" exclaimed Hycy, coolly.

"Ah," she replied warmly; "match or marriage will never--"

"Marriage!" he repeated, "why, my most amiable maternal relative, do
you mean to insinuate to Hycy the accomplished, that he is obliged to
propose either match or marriage to every girl he makes love to? What a
prosaic world you'd have of it, my dear Mrs. Burke. This, ma'am, is
only an agreeable flirtation--not but that it's possible there may
be something in the shape of a noose matrimonial dangling in the
background. She combines, no doubt, in her unrivalled person, the
qualities of Hebe, Venus, and Diana--Hebe in youth